A Lorax in Jackson

I grew up in a town filled with trees and tell myself that’s why watching this city steadily decimate its urban forest brings me such sadness. Every now and then when I mention old trees being cut from the heart of the city some few might say, “Oh, how awful!” and shake their heads, but do nothing. Some claim there’s no recourse; that the city itself is a lurching juggernaut of maladministration and that any public outcries are simply shrugged off, unheeded, leaving us struggling aimlessly and ineffectively with our objections to arborists with chainsaws. Soon those who remember a city enrobed in green will find shade in the shadows of what passes as progress here casts, and in my adopted city I’ll lose much of what I have come to love.

“And all that the Lorax left here in this mess
was a small pile of rocks, with the one word…
‘UNLESS.’

One Reply to “A Lorax in Jackson”

  1. Please consider me one of your fellow crusaders. I just don’t know what to do. Go to meetings? I generally don’t know about them until they are over. Chain myself to a tree? That would be a good headline. I hate what they are doing to Smith Park and I am worried about our trees on Riverside. Please tell me how I can help the Lorax.

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